I'm Him? [Remake]
by Shunyata Ryuen
Summary: Riley. A normal girl, struggling through the stresses of college and caffeine-defiencies, just trying to get along. And, then, she awakens to the Willow, burning on her chest, and nothing is ever the same again. A slightly-odd reincarnation fic.
1. When Life Gives You Lemons, Skip Class a...

**Disclaimer:**  Watashi no Fushigi Yuugi?  Iya, chigaimasu.  Komarimashita nee...

**Author's Notes: ** No, you're not seeing things.  This is, indeed, a remake "I'm Him?"  Why, you ask?  Well.  *sits down in big rocking chair and goes into storytelling mode*  The first time I began this fic, it was--gasp-choke-surprise--based on me and my life.  However, as my life has undergone an immense amount of change since the fic began, plus since I've been looking back on this story and wanting desperately to FIX it, I've decided that an update was in order.  I'm going to attempt to stick _mostly_ to the original storyline, but we'll see how it goes.  This is the kind of story one tends to write off the top of one's head, so it could really go anywhere. --;;  Anyway, if you're a fan of the original and hate what I've done here, don't fear.  This is just an experiment, something I've been meaning to do for awhile--but, if it doesn't work, I can easily go back to the original plotline, etc.  

**For Those Who Have Not Read the Original:**  This is a reincarnation ficcie, but it's kind of a...uhh..._weird_ one.  Read at your own risk.  :)  Also, I'm posting the first two chapters of this fic simultaneously, simply because they're both _written_, and when I post them separately...well, they get horribly lonely.  T_T

**Warnings:**  There'll be *gasp-sputter* no shounen-ai in this fic, but there will be some swearing and...uhh...Chiriko being a wee bit hyperactive.  Consider yourself warned. o.O;;

And, now, because I promised...

**Purple Mouse:  **I'm...talkin to a gumball.  

^_~.

---

**I'm Him?**

by Ryuen

~*~

**Chapter 1:**  When Life Gives You Lemons, Skip Class and Get Coffee

---

There are some kinds of knowledge that you just don't want.  Some examples?  Knowledge of an inoperable brain tumor--yes.  Knowledge of your cat being run over by a neighbor's lawnmower--yes.  Knowledge of the fact that it is morning once again and thus time for you to crawl out of the warmth of your bed and face the world?  YES.  Oh, God, yes.  

So was the problem I found myself faced with on one cheery Monday in late January.

I was having a rather pleasant dream about three random guy friends of mine professing their undying love (a product of the recent Joey/Rachel development on Friends, I was sure), when suddenly, something like a vise latched onto my shoulder and wouldn't let go.  Until that moment, I'd been of the opinion that there was no such thing as a ruder awakening than an alarm clock BEH-BEH-BEHing with enough volume to wake the dead...but, as it turns out, I was wrong.

The grip on my shoulder lessened, and I heard the unmistakable sound of my mother's voice, punctuated by a series of get-up hand claps--which I figured was supposed to jar me out of sleep or something, or maybe just let me know that she meant business.  And, then, my brain got itself around just what she was _SAYING_...

I sat bolt upright in bed.  "E-Eight-thirty?" I gasped.  "But--aaaaggggh!"  I cast a murderous glare in the direction of the alarm clock, sitting there looking innocent on the bedside table, and then shoved the blankets back and climbed out of bed.

When one has a nine o'clock class that is a twenty-five minute drive away, it's generally a good idea to get up before eight-thirty--particularly when the professor of said class has the bad habit of publically executing those who dare step into the room after class has begun.  Thus, Mom on my heels shrieking something about responsibility and punctuality, I charged through my room, out the door, across the hall, into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut.  

Once inside, I leaned my hands against the counter and tried to catch my breath.  The thoughts were whirling around inside my head at about eighty miles an hour, and my entire body was shaking from sheer reaction--nothing like being jolted out of sleep and finding you have five minutes to get ready to drag you out of that morning stupor.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, closed my eyes, and tried to think.  Okay.  Okay.  No time for a shower, definitely.  No time to iron my khakis, which meant I'd be dragging a pair of crumpled blue jeans out of the laundry pile and wearing those.  No time to eat anything, save maybe a breakfast bar or something, but those made me feel vaguely sick anyway, so...  All right.  I stood up straight, opened my eyes, and regarded myself calmly in the mirror.  Itinerary:  (1) Wash face, (2) put in contacts, (3) convince hair to stop trying to imitate Chichiri, (4) throw on jeans and random shirt, and (5) imbibe as much caffeine as possible before grabbing coat and books and running out the door.

I nodded inwardly.  Right, then.  Sounded like a plan.  

Unfortunately, I ran into a little bit of a problem around...well, step one.  I was reaching for the small, oval-shaped dish next to the sink, expecting to pull something solid into my fingers, but all I ran into there was a thin coating of pasty soap slime.  Eww.  Letting out an irritated little sigh, I dove to the cabinets beneath the counter, flung them open, and peered inside--okay, extra bottle of shampoo, toothpaste-covered razor, half-open bag of Super Long Diaper-Style Pads, spider web, spider web, spider web, bottle of hairspray vintage 1984...and, no soap.  Sigh.  Okay, then.  I straightened, studied myself in the mirror for a moment.  Eh, it'd be fine--I could wash it when I got back, right?  Right.  With that thought, I tugged open the bathroom door, dashed back across the hall to my room, and grabbed a bottle of contact solution and those little circle thingies that hold the contacts.  I was just wondering a little groggily if maybe there was some kind of proper name for said thingies when, abruptly, Ted decided to come charging out of his room and--of course--knock into me and send contacts and solution plummetting to the floor.  

His hair was a bit wilder than mine, more of a Tasuki look, really--but he mumbled, "Mmsorry, R'ley," as he passed, and I guessed he was a little less awake than I was.  Eh, just as well.  I looked at my watch as he stumbled down the stairs and found that--despite the fact that I was running back and forth like a madwoman and moving as quickly as humanly possible--I only had about T-minus two minutes and counting before it was time to go.  I glanced downward, found that the contacts case--ah!  that was it!  contacts case!--had managed to sputter open during the fall, and that the key to my beauty and vision was now lying in a sad little puddle on the floor.  All right, then, scratch step 2. 

Thankfully, I had a bit more luck with my hair than my face or eyes.  Of course, given that I was wearing my glasses, which were about two years out of date prescription-wise, it was entirely possible that my hair was a bit worse off than it looked, but at this point, I was slightly beyond caring.  It was getting weirdly long, almost to my waist, so I took it into my fingers and plaited it into a quick braid.  Some wisps of hair flickered out of the sides near the top, fell over my eyes, but I resisted the urge to beat them into submission.  Time was ticking along behind me, after all, and if I didn't hurry, there would be--gasp--no caffeine.  And, Lord of all Lords, God of all Gods, Heaven of all Heavens, I was NOT going to go without caffeine for a nine A.M. class on British Literature!

Forty-three seconds later, clad in wrinkly blue jeans, a satiny grey button-up, blue socks, and sneakers, I vaulted across my room, ripped open the door, and made for the stairs.  Must...go...faster...  Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud, and I was in the entryway, skidding around the corner, dashing past the dining room table, under the fake tree in the corner, through the archway, across the kitchen tile, and FINALLY!  The fridge towered above me, beautiful and white and sparkling in the morning sunlight, and--not bothering to pause to read the most recent Fox Trot my mother had taped onto the door--I tugged it open and looked inside--

And felt the bottom drop out of my morning.  

My hands began to shake.  Milk, water, orange juice, green Gatorade, six-year-old bottle of wine, but...  No.  Iced.  Tea.   

No...iced tea.  

Mom's voice echoed from upstairs.  "Riiiiiiiley!  Riley, shouldn't you get going?  You're going to be late!"

I managed a little whimpering, "O-Okay, Mom," then closed the fridge door, turned, and stumbled dazedly into the dining room.  No iced tea.  No caffeine.  Hour and a half...British Literature...rambling...so longgggg...room...so warm...  Agh, I was doomed.

Swearing I could hear a dirge playing somewhere off in the distance, I shrugged on my coat, grabbed my bookbag, and headed out the door.

---

I'd just pulled out onto the main road and was clipping along towards Route 219 when, abruptly, I remembered.  

Ten-page paper.  Mary Wollstonecraft, Vindication on the Rights of Women--analyze and critique, and suggest possible ironies between the content of the piece and Wollstonecraft's life experiences.  Due date:  today, first thing, immediately, NOW.  Status?  Three pages written, none printed out.  Fate?  Doomed.

Gah.  I pulled off the edge of the road, brought the dusty little Beretta to a stop, and did a quick, breathless evaluation.  All right.  My face and hair were both greasy, my glasses were smudgy, I had -no- caffeine in my system, I was going to be late, there was a paper due I hadn't finished, and--to top it all off--it looked like I was almost out of gas.  Thoughts on the subject?  Hmm.  Option 1:  Go to class, be screamed at for being late, screamed at for forgetting paper, then run out of gas on the way back and have to push the Beretta the rest of the way home.  Option 2:  Skip class, claim deathly illness, get gas, get caffeine, and live to fight another day.

I nodded.  Sounded like a plan.

I was feeling somewhat more at ease as I pulled back onto the road, so I flicked on the radio.  Ted had it preset on some scary heavy metal/rap station, but luckily all I was forced to hear of that was a frightening little "Wehyerrrel, wehyyyyerelll" sound accompanied by a less-than-steady synthesized drum beat, and then I was off and running with the dial spinning in my hand.  After a few seconds, I settled on a Classic Rock station, shifted into neutral, and coasted my way down the hill to freedom.  

---

"But, I'm the oooonly one who'll walk across the fiiiiiiire for youuuuuu!  And, I'm the ooooonly one who'll drown in my desiiiiiiiire for youuuu!"

I was getting kind of scarily into singing along with Melissa Etheridge when, thankfully, I caught a glimpse of the coffee shop up ahead, jutting out of a block of discount shops, and flicked on my turn signal.  The shop itself was one I'd only been to a couple times in the past, mostly with high school friends after dances and football games and stuff, but the coffee was decent and the radio played music I could stand to listen to--plus it was close by--so I figured I'd give it a shot.  When it comes to caffeine, I'm not all that picky, but having drunk 7-11 coffee during a moment of early morning weakness a few weeks earlier, I'd come to be a bit more cautious about such things.   Thus, I approached the coffee shop with narrowed eyes and as alert a mind as I could manage.  

Upon stepping inside, I saw they'd done a bit of rennovating since I'd been in last.  The counter was, instead of being against the far back wall, in the very middle of the room, and the tables and chairs had been arranged in a kind of circular pattern around it.  There were a bunch of those metal poles with ropes stretched across them to keep people in a respectable line, but since it was pretty empty right now, I ducked underneath them (one of the benefits of being what we call "petite") and made my way to the counter.  Also, I noticed that they'd stuck a jukebox next to the door and hung a wide variety of bizarre, abstract paintings on the walls, but neither were--thankfully--obnoxious enough to make my brain explode.  

And, then, suddenly, I was at the counter and standing in front of a good-looking guy with a blue polo shirt on, and all other thoughts melted out of my mind.  

"Hi," the guy said cheerfully, "what can I get you?"

Large iced mocha, no whipped cream.  Large iced mocha, no whipped cream.

And, yet, for some reason, I couldn't force the words to come out of my mouth.  There they were, written in big bold letters in my mind, and my brain was pointing at them with bright flashing arrows, but the words just weren't coming.  Ack!  Speak!  I glanced at the guy a little helplessly, taking in his long, silky brown hair, his broad shoulders, his concerned frown and slightly-narrowed eyes--like liquid amber, I found myself thinking...  And, just as I was starting to wonder why the jukebox had suddenly gone quiet, the edges of my vision started to go dark, and I knew with a scary kind of certainty that I was going to pass out.

My breath was loud in my ears, whooshing like a giant wind tunnel, and I had the vague impression of my head being several times lighter than it was supposed to be, like I was floating away or something...and, then, my knees buckled beneath me, and everything went black.


	2. Some Days, It's Better Just To Stay In B...

---

**Chapter 2:  **Some Days, It's Better To Just Stay In Bed.

~*~

I'd passed out before.  It was a couple years earlier, during a Music Theory class in high school. My sophomore year, if I remember right.  Anyway, Kats and I were sitting next to each other in the band room, tuning our guitars for some class activity, and I remember that I was focusing really heavily on that steady hum of the E major note, concentrating hard and barely breathing because I was trying to listen over the background noise--  And, then, suddenly the world got quiet and staticky, and it seemed almost like a yellow-tinted visor came down over my eyes, because everything was suddenly dim and golden and hushed.  I was confused, at first, since I'd never passed out before, and thought that maybe I could make the feeling go away if I tried.  So I just sat there in the chair and breathed deeply and tried to bring myself back, but after a few seconds it was pretty obvious that it wasn't working.  I remember, very vaguely, turning to Kats then and mumbling, "I think I'm gonna pass out."  Kats said something, then, probably about how much I was freaking her out, but her words faded out like some movie effect gone wrong, and next thing I knew, I was on the other side of the band room and everyone was crowded around me.

But, it was weird, because I had no memory of passing out--when I woke up, I wasn't even sure that I _had_ passed out, except that  there was that lost time that I had no memory of.  I'd been over there, sitting in my chair next to Kats, I'd blinked, and next thing I knew I was on the other side of the room and everyone was around me.  So, naturally, I was expecting something similar to happen in this instance, to have that long moment of missing time in place of the time I spent unsconscious.  

But, strangely enough, it wasn't like that.  There was substance to my unconsciousness; I was...aware.

_Everything was dark; cool.  I had the impression of being alone, too--and, not just everyone-else-is-asleep alone or family's-out-for-a-few-hours alone.  No.  This was utterly, totally, scarily alone.  Last-person-on-the-planet-alive alone.  Or--I shivered--dead-and-trapped-in-some-weird-kind-of-purgatory alone.  I cried out then, I think, but my voice didn't make a sound in the darkness.  It didn't even echo hollowly back at me, it was just...silent.  And, it wasn't -loud- silence, either, which was really strange.  It was dead, perfect silence, like I'd imagine the inside of a black hole would be.  Stagnant.  Frozen.  Empty.  Dead._

_And, then, suddenly, I was aware that I was somewhere else; someone else.  There was wind, icy on my face, and something like heat on my chest; a flash of white and then a burst of agony that shrieked inside of me like a white-hot flame--_

"...happened?"

"...don't know sh...nd I think...esh air or..."

"...ramedics...might be...ing to do."

And, then, very clearly:  "No, it's all right.  She seems to be coming around."

And, as it happened, I was.  Feeling too-warm and still a little shaky, I drew in a long breath, prepared myself mentally as best I could, and let my eyelashes flutter open.

--and, found myself staring up into eyes of warm, gold-tinted amber.  

"Large iced mocha," I managed weakly.  "No whipped cream."

The eyes widened briefly in surprise, and the lips beneath them parted as if to say something--but, then, abruptly, a small, rosy-cheeked face pushed its way into my field of vision.

"Are you all right?" the owner of the rosy cheeks asked a bit frantically.  "Are you having a medical emergency??"

Eager, wide, intelligent eyes, a voice that was high enough to be a girl's, but which I knew rather instinctively to be a boy's.  He was dressed in neatly-ironed khakis and a slightly-too-large-for-him red polo shirt, and although his hair was cropped into a boyish kind of bowl-cut around his face, just looking at the kid, I could see that he probably got mistaken for a girl a LOT.  He had that cherubish kind of look about him, almost like a male version of Shirley Temple, although--if his speech was any indication, at least--I suspected that he was less than your typical innocent, untouched babe.  

"Are you having difficulty breathing or anything?" he went on anxiously.  "I've never had any kind of medical training, of course, but I've read a lot of books and journals on modern medicine and doctor-patient care, and I'm certain I could--"

The other guy gave the kid a patient but slightly-reprimanding look.  "Andrew, please.  Give her some air."

The kid sobered quickly, nodded.  "Right.  Sorry."

And, there were those eyes again, regarding me with a concerned kind of relief--but, luckily, I was feeling a bit more coherent by now.  "How do you feel?" he asked gently.  "Does your head hurt at all?"

"My head?" I echoed.  I brought a hand to the back of my skull, held it there with a little frown spreading across my lips.  "I...I don't think so.  Why, did I hit it?"

Andrew sprang forward, then, his eyes so wide I was surprised he hadn't managed a spot on Ripley's, yet.  "No!" he exclaimed.  "Stefan jumped over the counter and caught you before you fell!  It was amazing!"

Stefan...Stefan...Stefan--o_h_.  

I blushed, horribly embarrassed for some reason I couldn't quite grasp.  He...he...

Noticing my expression, the kid nodded vehemently.  "It was amazing," he repeated.  "Like something right out of an adventure novel!"

I frowned.  Adventure _novel?  _What kind of weird breed of kid was this?

"Regardless," said Stefan, casting the boy an amused sort of smile, "how _are_ you feeling?"

I thought about it for a few seconds.  "Well," I said slowly, "I'm still a little shaky, but...I don't know, I feel all right."

"She needs to get some fluids in her system!" Andrew announced.  "And, food.  Of course, high temperatures can also cause loss of consciousness, but I don't think that could be the problem, so it must be malnourishment or dehydration or something."

I frowned again.  "I'm not dehydrated."

Stefan turned a speculative eye to me.  "Have you eaten?  Andrew's right, that could be part of the problem."

"Well...no...but--"

Andrew leaped to his feet.  "That's it, then!  You need food!"

"--but, I never eat breakfast," I finished a little lamely.  "A-Anyway, I need to get to class..."  I tried to crawl to my feet, but ended up falling rather unceremoniously sideways only a moment later.  I thudded into something soft, looked up to see that Stefan had somehow, in the space of half a second, leaped to his feet, gotten behind me, and caught me before I could fall.  

"_See_," Andrew said, jabbing a finger at me.  "I told you."

I blinked up at Stefan, who now seemed to be contented with simply holding onto my arm, rather than...err...  I blushed.  "How do you _do_ that?" 

He glanced at me in something like surprise, but before he could answer, Andrew chimed in with, "He used to be a gymnast.  He even had a shot at the Olympics, but then something happened to his foot and he couldn't compete!"

Stefan sighed lightly.  "Andrew, please.  I doubt that--"  He looked at me rather suddenly, and I guessed he'd just figured out that I hadn't told him my name.

"Riley," I supplied.  

He gave me a little nod, then turned his attention back to Andrew.  "I doubt that Riley is interested in hearing the details of my life."  Measured pause.  "All right?"

The kid gave a sullen little nod and was silent.

Amber eyes flickered to me again.  "Riley," Stefan said softly, and I was suddenly VERY aware of the fact that we were in the middle of a coffee shop, and there were _customers_ who were still sitting calmly at their tables, probably staring at me and hearing every damn word that was being said...  Agh.  "You should probably sit down until you've had a chance to recover.  Here."  He ushered me to a nearby table, somehow managed to _gently_ force me into the chair there.  "I'll bring you something to drink."

"Nothing caffeinated or salty," Andrew warned from behind us.  "Water or milk, maybe."

"Would you like something to eat, too?"

Gaaah, I wanted to get out of heeeeeeere...

"No, no, it's okay," I said.  This time, careful to steady myself on the chair, I rose to my feet and stayed there.  Stefan was eyeing me a little warily, but he didn't make any mad rushes to grab me, or anything.  "I really need to get going."

"You can't drive like that!" Andrew exclaimed.  "W-What if you black out again?"

"I won't," I insisted.  "I--this has happened before.  The feeling always fades after a couple minutes, and then I'm _fine_."

Stefan was giving me The Doubtful Eye, but I wasn't in the mood to examine the moral consequences of lying to complete strangers.  And, anyway, I wasn't _actually_ lying.  It _had_ happened before, and the feeling _had_ faded after a few minutes, and I was fine, then.  So, no fuss, no muss, no lies.  I started to make my way towards the door.

--and stopped when something strange and familiar whispered into my ears.

I stood with my back to Andrew and Stefan, just past the metal-post-rope things and almost to the door.  I glanced back at them over my shoulder, found them standing next to each other at the table I'd just vacated, both looking at me with concerned expressions on their faces.  Well, Andrew's was kind of a mixture between curiosity and concern, but there was still concern there.

"W...What did you say?" I managed.

Stefan frowned.  "Say?"

"When?" chimed Andrew.

I felt a frown of my own trickle onto my lips, twist them downwards.  "Just...just now.  You said--"  My eyes flickered to the ground, and I realized suddenly that I didn't _know_ what I'd heard.  Why...why did it feel so important, then?  I sighed softly.  After-effects of passing out?  Or, maybe some leftover of that weird dream?  "I'm sorry," I mumbled, turning away.  "Thanks, for...for helping me.  Bye..."

I ran for the door, not caring if people were staring at me, not caring if I was acting like an idiot--it was like I couldn't breathe, like the air in that place was smothering me.  And, as I stepped out into the crisp January sunlight a few seconds later, I realized that my hands were shaking, my pulse was racing, and my breathing was coming fast and quick.  I stumbled forward, grabbed onto a pole to steady myself.  For a long time, I couldn't do much more than just stand there, breathing hard and keeping my eyes tightly closed, and fight against whatever it was that was washing over me.  I didn't feel sick or like I was going to pass out again, which was weird, but--well, my heart was thundering in my chest, and it was like I couldn't get a good, deep breath...

_What is this?  A panic attack or something?_

And, then, just as quickly as it had come, it went away.  I could breathe again, and that...that weird pain...it was gone, too.  I drew in a long, calming breath of air, opened my eyes, and disentangled myself from  the pole.  Luckily--I glanced around--it seemed like no one had seen my strange little display, so I walked as casually as I could to the Beretta and climbed inside.  It was only there that everything hit me, only there that I felt the pained tears stinging against my cheeks and the great numbing fear sinking into my skin like icy water.  I sat there in the driver's seat, shaking and holding back tears, for almost a full ten minutes before I felt strong enough to jam the key in the ignition, start up the car, and get the hell out of there.  

As I pulled away, I could've sworn that I caught a glimpse of amber eyes through the rearview mirror, peering out through the coffee shop window.  But, then, it all faded out behind me, and I was back on the road again.

---

Mom was, ah, less than pleased to see me back so early.

"Young lady, what are you doing back?  Are you...are you skipping class??  Even when you know how _important_ it is for you to keep your grade point average up?  Even when you know how much your education is costing us??"

And, I was completely and utterly not in the mood for this discussion.  "Can we talk about this later?" I managed a bit weakly, brushing past her and moving for the stairs.  "I...I'm not feeling well."

"Well, you _shouldn't_ be feeling well.  Honestly, Riley, I'm just so...so _sick and tired_ of watching you waste your life.  You are _so_ intelligent, but what do you do with it?  Do you use it to ace all your classes and come out with a 4.0? No.  No.  You sit there half the day in front of that computer and write...write _stories_ about characters that aren't even _yours_--"

Agggh, why did she have to drag the fanfiction into it??

"Mom," I said.  I was halfway up the stairs--almost there--but, I had a feeling she'd be satisfied with yelling through my closed door if we didn't get this done with right now.  "I'm not wasting my life.  I'm just--"

"_Yes_, you are.  Listen to me, Riley.  You can't understand these things, because you just don't have enough _experience_ in the world, yet, but these college years are _very_ important.  If you don't do well here, you'll _never_ do well.  Do you understand?  You'll _never_ do well.  Everything in your life depends on what you do now, and I can't stand to see you throwing all that potential away like this!  I...I just expected more out of you, Riley."

_I don't need this right now, damn it._

But, there it was, laid flat on the table and as glaringly obvious as anything could be.  

_Disappointed in me.  Not proud of me.  Wasting my life..._

"Mom, let's talk about this later, okay?"  I didn't give her a chance to respond.  I leaped the rest of the way up the stairs, spun the corner, and hurried into my room.  The door slammed behind me, and then I was curled up on my bed under the covers and everything was all right again.

Only...somehow, it wasn't.  It had only been, what, a half an hour since I'd left for class, and yet somehow, in the space of those thirty minutes, everything had changed.  Sighing, I tugged the glasses off my face and clunked them onto the bedside table.  Everything about today felt so...so weird and unreal.  All the bad things that'd happened this morning, passing out in the coffee shop, that utterly _bizarre_ dream, Stefan and Andrew...gah.  I snuggled deep under the covers and tugged the blankets over my head, pressed them down so I was surrounded by the dim glow of muted sunlight and the warmth of my own breath.  

I fell asleep there, wrapped in warm darkness, and did not dream.

---

I came awake with a gasp.

Something...something was wrong.

Ow-ow-ow-ow what the hell?!  I flung the covers off my head, sat up straight in bed, and realized with another numbing wash of fear that I couldn't breathe.  No...no, I COULD, but every breath was _pain_, unimaginable, unceasing, agonizing pain, coming from right there, right there!  I stumbled out of bed, fell promptly to my knees and had to crawl to get anywhere.  Mother of God, what was wrong with me??  I gave an anguished little cry and fell onto my stomach on the floor, my right hand clutching my chest, and wondered a bit frantically if I might somehow be having a heart attack or something.  I mean, it wasn't impossible, was it?  I'd heard of people my age having them, and it _did_ run in my family--

I...I had to get help.  Help, help, help--ow-ow-_ow!_  The tears were hot in my eyes, blurring my vision, but I could still make out the square red numbers on my alarm clock, swimming in my vision but somehow so clear, so clear; and I knew then that I was going to die, I was going to die, because it was after twelve and Mom always left at eleven thirty so she wasn't even home and no one else was either and all the neighbors worked and I couldn't have made it outside anyway and what the hell was I going to do?!  I was...I was dying here and no one was even going to _know_ about it until three o'clock when Ted got home from school and even then probably he wouldn't think to look into my room, and so by the time someone found me it'd be _too fucking late!_  

Somehow, biting my lip so hard that I tasted blood, I managed to drag myself to the door, stretch up my free hand, and grab onto the doorknob.  I had to get out I had to get out...  Oh, but God--God, God, God, it hurt so much, it--  I...I couldn't do this.  I couldn't do this!  I wasn't strong enough...  And, what the hell did it matter, anyway?  What the hell did it matter?  Mom hated me, the only friend I had in the world who even gave a damn about me was Kats, and Mom was right, all I ever did was writing goddamn fanfictions and watch Fushigi Yuugi!  What the _hell_ did it matter if I died!?

_No._

A voice, deep inside of me, foreign and strange and unfamiliar, but _mine_.  Definitely, certainly, positively _mine_.  My voice, my command--my strength.  Mine.

_No_.

I stood up.  The pain didn't lessen.  It seared through me, burned in my chest, made breathing so difficult that I was starting to feel light-headed from lack of oxygen.  But, no.  _No_.  A slow warmth was spreading over me now, numbing and wonderful, and even though I knew that the pain was still there and I was still going to die, it was okay.  It was okay, because the warmth was a gentle hand on my cheek, soothing away the fever and giving me strength, giving me the power to get up, go on, fight past the pain, get that door open so they could--  So I could live.  Because...I was fighting for _my_ life here, wasn't I?  Yeah...yeah, _my_ life.  I had to get out, get help.  Yeah.  My life.

The warmth gave me the strength to lift my hand again, grab the doorknob and twist it open.  Then, six hard, jolting steps later, I was in the bathroom, leaning hard against the counter trying to catch my breath, and even though I hadn't thought to hit the switch it was light, it was light--why?  Why?  The shade was drawn and even though there was a little bit of light trickling in from downstairs, it wasn't the right kind of light, it wasn't this weird reddish glow that was suddenly all around me like an aura of...

I suddenly stood very straight and still in front of the mirror, no longer leaning on the counter, no longer thinking or moving or blinking or breathing.  I just stood and..._looked_.  Because, good blessed holy bloody God, it was there.  It was _there_.  

"Yanagi," I whispered.

Impossibly, I felt the pain in my chest fading, but it wasn't something I noticed right away, strange as that may sound.  Then again, it was kind of hard to notice much of anything with the reflected image of the willow right there in front of me, burning on the chest of my mirror image and--I glanced downward--burning on _my_ chest.  _MY_ chest.  

Something inside of me gave a great cry of what felt strangely like jubilation, and then fell silent.  And, the truth was there, pulsing in my veins and lying ashen on my tongue.  _God, I'm..._

_I'm...-him- somehow...aren't I_?

---

AN:  This is all that's written for now, but as this is a fic that's very close to me personally, I'm rather certain I'll be writing a great deal more of it in the coming days/weeks/whatever.  Anyway, until then, do let me know your comments, criticisms, and opinions—particularly if you find yourself despising it and cursing the name of Ryuen for daring to toy with something like this. --;;  Anyway.  Lemme know.  I shall be forever indebted.  

PS:  Man Beneath the Braid is next on my to-do list, ne, Mouse-chan? ^_~.


	3. Oh, Sweet Denial...

**Chapter 3:  **Oh, Sweet Denial; Drink of Gods and Reincarnated Crossdressers

~*~

I shook my head, staring wide-eyed at the Willow but knowing that this _couldn't_ be real, this _couldn't_ be, because it was insane!  Damn it, I'd just been reading too much fanfiction recently, that was all, and toss in the fact that I was getting a little stressed over school and watching episode thirty-three just a _few_ too many times and--voila!  Formula for hallucination!  That was it.  Next chance I got, I was writing a letter of complaint to that Purple Mouse girl--it was _her_ fics' faults, damn it.  Her fault.  Yeah.

My mind was made up; convinced entirely--it could file this away under Certifiable and walk away right this instant.  Unfortunately, my eyes still seemed to be of the opinion that they were seeing a Chinese character glowing on my collarbone, and so we had a bit of a problem.  Good God, what if I really _was_ going crazy?  I mean, what other explanation was there?  Girl suddenly imagines she's the reincarnation of a fictional character--and, not just _any_ fictional character, but a _male crossdressing -animated- fictional character!_  Aaaaaaaahhhhh!!

I clamped my hands over my eyes.  See no evil, see no evil, see no evil...

Then, very carefully, I spread my fingers apart a little bit, just in front of my eyes, let my eyelid slide upwards just a liiiiiiiiittle bit...

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh, it's still therrrrrrrrrre!" I shrieked.  "Whyyyy is it still therrrrrrrre!?"

I needed a shower.  Yes.  Yes, yes, yes.  A shower would most definitely make me feel better.  Wash away, make it clean, la la la, _damn it!!  _I was going insane!  Shower.  Yes.  Focus.  Shower.  I shuffled over to the bathtub, reached in, and twisted the shower knob, pulled up the little This-Makes-It-A-Shower-Instead-of-a-Bath plug.  The water was hot and foggy, washing up through my sinuses, making it easier to breathe.  Yes, nice hot shower, make it better...

Somehow, I gathered enough cognizance to strip off my clothes, toss them into a crumpled pile on the fuzzy toilet lid, and _then_ climb into the shower, but it was a near thing.  And, then, I was under the hot stream of water, and all I could do for a long moment was just stand there, letting the water soak into my long, braided hair, surge over my face, wash down over that spot...that spot on my collarbone...

_Out, out, damned spot_, some random part of my subconsious muttered.

But...somehow...it _was_ going out.  I could feel it fading on my skin, feel the warmth fading, the power fading, and I knew that things were going back to normal, now, that I was drifting back into myself and soon would be Sane Riley again.  And, yet, so much had happened--how could I ever go back, now?  Gah, and what the hell did I think I was I gonna do?  Seek medical attention?  And, then what?  Explain to whoever treated me that I somehow managed to survive Whatever the Hell It Was That Had Happened by channeling up my seishi powers and scaring the little chest-ripping demons away??  They'd damn well lock me up.

And, what could I tell my mother?  Lord, she already kept hinting around about the fact that she thought I was gay, what would she think if I came out (_nice phrasing,_ my mind sneered) with the fact that I secretly believed myself to be the reincarnation of a guy?  A crossdressing guy?  A presumably-gay guy?  _AN ANIMATED GUY, DAMN IT, RILEY!!_

I drew in a long breath, let it out slowly through my nostrils.  Okay.  This was getting me nowhere--I needed to think about this logically.  What were the possibilities, anyway?  Okay.  Possibility 1:  Riley is insane and needs to be locked up in a huge white room for a few years without Fushigi Yuugi.  Possbility 2:  Riley is simply having a _severe_ withdrawl reaction to caffeine, and will stop seeing Chinese characters on her skin and imagining she's in great pain as soon as she gets a nice tall glass of iced tea.

Or--I drew a deep breath--Possibility 3.

I _wasn't_ imagining the Willow appearing on my chest, and neither was I suffering from hallucinations or insanity or caffeine-deprived-madness.  I was, quite simply, the real-world reincarnation of Nuriko, and that was why what had happened had happened.  

I was quiet for a long time after that, the splatter of the water hitting the tub the only sound in the bathroom or my mind.  And, then, I let out a deep breath, reached forward, and switched off the water.  I wasn't exactly clean, but then that hadn't really been the point, so I climbed out and grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around myself, not bothering to sponge the excess water from my hair as I moved.  As such, a great trail of drips followed me as I trekked across the bathroom floor (giving myself a scared little once-over while passing the mirror and seeing that the Willow was, indeed, gone), latched onto the doorknob, and tugged it towards me.  An immediate rush of cool air swept over me with the motion, and I felt strangely energized.

_Hey, I'm alive_, I realized all of a sudden.  _I'm...I'm alive._

See, there was always a silver lining somewhere, ne?

---

Awhile later, still feeling shaky but at least not _insane_ and shaky, I dripped my way downstairs and started wandering towards the fridge.  I was about halfway there before I remembered that there was no iced tea--sigh--and thus turned my wandering in a different direction.  I ended up walking in a slow circle around the dining room table, my feet thudding against the black and white tile and jangling the bowl of assorted candy on the table.  Thud-jingle.  Thud-jingle.  Thud-jingle.  Thud-jingle-squeak.  I paused, then, that familiar sound somehow jarring me out of my stupor, and stared with dull eyes at the computer chair.  It really was a pretty comfortable place to sit, I found myself thinking.  A good place for spinning in circles, at least, and it'd probably be a bit more fun than these damned slow circles I was taking around the table.

I thunked into the chair with a shrill squeak, leaned back in the chair and gave myself a little push-off.  And, whooooooosh.  I was spinning, spinning, spinning...  When things wound down and I was still again, the world kept on spinning for a few moments, and I felt a bit more at home than I had since I'd left that morning for class.  

Caffeine-deprivation can do strange things to people.  

As it was, I spun around in said computer chair for approximately forty-five minutes before, ultimately, turning a weary mind towards the computer screen and--through force of habit--bringing up fanfiction dot net to check my reviews.  Given that I was immensely obsessive-compulsive when it came to certain things, I had a bad habit of checking and rechecking my reviews several times during the course of my computer-time.  It was like a silent voice that was always in my mind, addicted and longing for a fix.  _Check them check them check them you know you want to.  _

_All the other kids are doing it!_

I sighed, clapped a hand to my forehead, and resolved to find caffeine no matter the cost to my health.  Errr...after I checked my reviews.  And, sure enough, when I clicked into the Statistics page and scanned the familiar numbers, I found that--gasp-choke-smile--one of them had gone up one.  So, despite the fact that I had quite a lot to ponder and probably had better things to be doing with my time than checking such things, I opened up the fic and clicked a couple thousand times on the reviews before they finally decided to come up.

______________________________________________________

Kats (legolaschan@pitt.edu)  Date:  2002-01-20  Ch2:  Anonymous                                 

you @#$(*&@$ rock, man!!!  hohotori's sugoi... and chiriko was so funny. anyway I just thought I'd warn ya, my mom and a bunch of her friends are comin over today and I'd rather not be there for it, so if it's okay I thought maybe I could come over to your house for awhile? onegaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiii??  anyway, great job on the fic, write more soon.  *fanged grin*  -Kats                                  ___________________________________________________________

"Kats," I murmured, frowning thoughtfully at the screen.  

A visitor.  A mostly-sane visitor.  A mostly-sane visitor who worked at a deli and thus could bring me caffeine.  

The phone was in my hand a second later, my fingers jabbing at the big square numbers a little frantically (had to redial twice, truthfully), and then, it was ringing. 

**Kats' Mom: ** Hehhlo.

**Me:  **Is Kats there?

**Kats' Mom: ** Yeah, just a second.  

**Kats' Mom's Voice at Five Times the Decibal Level:**  KAAAAAATTTTTTSSSS!!  RILEY'S ON THE PHONE!

**Me: ** *wince*

**Kats:  **Hey.

**Me:  **Hey.  You still wanna come over?

**Kats:  **Hell, yeah!  You sure it's okay?

**Me:**  Yes.  Definitely.

**Kats: ** 'kay.  I'll be over in a few minutes.

**Me:**  Okay.  Bring caffeine, okay?

**Kats: ** Hehehe, sure.  I'll stop by the deli on the way.  See ya.

**Me:  **See ya.

And, that was that.  Kats was going to come over, and--if I didn't manage to convince her that I was certifiable and/or some reject fangirl with a Nuriko-wannabe complex--I was sure things would seem brighter.  Kats always seemed to be able to cheer me up.  And, if she couldn't, then hey, at least I'd have somebody around to knock me upside the head if I got weird again.  Firm inner nod.    
And, she was bringing caffeine.  What could possibly go wrong?

_Oh, shut-up, you idiot_.  _You know people who say things like that are always headed for ironic demise. _

I sighed.  Oh, good.  I thought my day was missing something.

---


	4. Riley, Warrior Princess

---

**Random Quote of the Day:**

**Kokkei:**  It's gonna be just two female girls, against each other.

**Ryuen: ** (pause)  Two _female _girls?  As opposed to...?

**Kokkei:  **Gaaaahh.  (pause)  Ahhh, no, don't quote that!!

**Ryuen:  **(evil laughter)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

**Chapter 4:  **Riley, Warrior Princess

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Kats' house was only about a ten minute drive away from mine, so I didn't have all that much time to wallow before she came screeching up the driveway.  As it was, I took advantage of the time-limit to creep back upstairs to my room, check the fabric of my blankets for hallucinogenic substances, and then rip the whole pile off the mattress and drag it down to the washer.  No use taking chances, right?  I'd just managed to stuff it all in and get the detergent to stop splattering on my hands when, right on cue, the doorbell rang.  Knowing Kats was, ahhh, less than a patient individual, I slammed the lid closed, twisted the ancient little knob, and let the washer work its anti-hallucination magic.  A few moments later, I'd vaulted up the cellar stairs and was jogging towards the front door.

And, there was Kats, her nose pressed up against the narrow window beside the door, her breath puffing out against the glass.  "'Eyyy, Riley, open the damn door!"  

The glass muffled her words, and so of course, I had to stop just in front of the door, puzzle out what she'd said, and _then_ grab the knob and unlock it.  Kats pushed in through the door even before I'd got it all the way open, and from the puff of icy air that followed her, I gathered it'd cooled down a bit since I'd been out earlier.  Not that I'd been in much of a mood to notice temperature or anything, of course...  But, still.  Well, I mean, it _was_ January.  I frowned.  You'd think I'd spent my life in a warmer place than Western Pennsylvania, the way I always seemed to take it for granted that it'd be warm outside...

Kats reminded me a lot of a two-year-old sometimes.  And, not that she was immature...necessarily...or that she had a bad temper and tended to "accidentally" destroy things...necessarily...but, more because, when she wanted someone's attention, she would do just about anything--jumping up and down, waving her arms, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you until your brain twisted into your ears--to get it.  

So it was that I found Kat's hands in front of my face, snapping out a jaunty little tune as I stared off into space.  I "snapped" out of it.  (Inward groan.  GAAAH, no more puns!)  "Sorry," I managed.  And, noticing the mottled brown carton now resting on the floor at Kats' feet:  "You know what caffeine deprivation does to me."

"Well, then," said Kats with a grin.  "Let's open the sucker up, huh?"

I nodded weakly.  "Please.  I'm dying, here."  
  


Kats' smile bent a little, and something like concern trickled into her eyes.  "Yeah, I can tell.  You don't look so great, Ri."  Another grin, made all the more amusing by the fang-like protrusions of Kats' canines.  "You were watchin' ep thirty-three again, weren'tcha?"

_No!_ my mind offered cheerfully.  _I thought, for some variety, I'd stop -watching- Nuriko's death and actually experience it for myself!  Livin' the dream, here!_

I scowled inwardly, but somehow managed to keep the majority of the expression from my face.  "Nah, it's just the lack of caffeine.  It does weird things to people--especially me."  _Speaking of which, ha ha ha, have you ever woken up and been in awful pain and then seen a seishi symbol pop up on your chest?  What, you have?  Yeah, it's a bitch, ain't it?_

Kats was frowning at me.  "Ri, 'd'you hear anything I just said?"  
  


I blinked.  "Wha?  Ahh, sorry..."  
  


"Ehhh, s'arright.  C'mon, let's get you some iced tea before ya start hallucinating or something'."  
  


Large inner sweatdrop.  "Sure!" I said brightly.  

Why did I have the feeling it was going to be slightly difficult to bring this up in casual conversation??

---

"No, seriously, man.  The producers were lookin' for some kinda war cry or somethin' for her, and so Lucy Lawless just started doin' that 'IYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYI!' thing, and they loved it."

_And, God said, "Let there be Xena," and it was good._

I raised an eyebrow.  "Interesting..."  Then, having fulfilled my Random Fact of the Day quota:  "Hey, Kats?"

Kats was sprawled on the recliner, rocking herself idly back and forth (of course, it wasn't _supposed_ to be a rocking chair, but that's what happens when enough kids jump on a chair for enough years), but she stopped when I spoke, twisted her neck and looked back at me.  "Yeah, Ri?"  
  


I felt all the blood rushing to my skull.  "Ahhh...I...uhhh..."  

"Man, you're actin'...weird today.  You--"  She jabbed a finger at me.  "--need some more iced tea."

I sighed, pressed a hand to my forehead, and somehow managed to nod.  "Gah, you're right.  Thanks, Kats."  
  


Kats grinned.  "Get me some too while you're up, 'kay?"

Grumble-grumble, I slave all day over a hot stove for you...

Nonetheless, I pushed myself off the edge of the couch, rose to my feet, and stalked out to the kitchen.  "One cube or two?" I called darkly.

I heard Kats laugh, then, that high "eheheheheh!" that could, I was quite sure, shatter just about any silence, no matter how thick.  "Two cubes, kudasaaaaaai!"

Grumble.  Did we even have any ice cubes?  Hmm, it bore investigating...  Not that it would be a tragedy or anything if we didn't, of course, but ice was nice.

_Ya know what's also nice?  Rice.  _

_But not with lice._

_Now, say it thrice..._

_Thrice blind mice?_

Idiot.

Ignoring the fact that Kats had, in my absence, turned the TV volume up loud enough that I swore I could hear the leather squeaking on Lucy Lawless, I halted in front of the fridge, stretched out a hand, and tugged open the freezer.  A wash of frigid air swept out, made me close my eyes briefly against the sudden chill--

_...a face out of nightmares--yellow eyes, piercing like a wolf's but intelligent, too, awake and aware like a man's; and, fur, matted and tangled and dotted with snow, dangling into those eyes, touching the severe curve of rigid cheekbones, whispering against lips bathed in blood that I knew were hiding back the fangs..._

I staggered back from the freezer door, gasping for breath, and felt my back hit into the counter.  Wha...wha...what...was..._that?_

_Okay, that's it.  You've lost it.  Better tell Mom to rent out your room, because you're gonna be in a psych ward by the end of the week.  B-B-B-But, what the hell -was- that?!  Because...because, it looked like...it..._

_It looked like--_

Something touched my shoulder.  

Now, _logically_, I knew that (1) there was only one other person in the house besides me, and (2) that person was Kats.  Thus, as said logic would dictate, the hand on my shoulder was, indeed, Kats' hand, and therefore if I peeled my fingers off of my eyes and turned my head to the side a little, I'd see Kats standing there.  Simple.

Unfortunately, while my mind was cycling through this lovely bout of logic, the rest of my body was...ahh...reacting.  I spun away from the touch on my shoulder, my socked feet sliding easily on the linoleum, and--before anything (such as the shocked look on Kats' face, who was, indeed, standing there behind me) registered, sent a defensive fist flying out through the air.  It thudded into something soft a second later, and Kats went sprawling backwards and onto the floor. 

... ... ... 

Ahhhhhh!  WhathehellwasIdoing!?

Shaking and still breathing hard, I hurried across the kitchen floor and into the family room where, after skidding backwards, Kats had finally landed.  "GAAAH, I'm so sorry!!!" I wailed.  I felt absolutely sick with guilt.  Good God, I'd never hit anyone in my entire _life_, let alone my best friend who was probably only worried about me, anyway, and--

"_Shit!" _Kats exclaimed, and I was shocked to find that--even though there was a light mist of surprised tears in her eyes--she was grinning.  Wait.  G...Grinning?  "_Shit_, man, that was unbelievable!  How'd you do that??" 

"I...ah..."  Pause.  Deep breath.  Let it out slowwwwly.  There ya go.  In, out...in, out...calm blue ocean...  "Aren't you hurt?"

Kats shrugged it off, already halfway back onto her feet.  "Eh, I've had worse.  But, _damn_, man, that was amazing!  Why the hell didn'tcha tell me you knew how to do that?"  
  


"Uh...because I..."  I frowned.  "Because I didn't know I _could _do that."

Kats laughed, rubbing at her shoulder where I'd hit it.  "Like hell, Ri.  You don't just..._do_ something like that.  You gotta train first, get your muscles built up--learn how to punch so ya don't hurt yourself when you do hit somebody."  She cast a surveying eye in my direction, gaze flickering to my small frame, thin arms, and all-around weak-looking exterior.  Her eyes narrowed a little.  "That's fuckin' weird, man.  I've never seen somebody who could pack that much power into a punch and still look like they weighed a hundred pounds."  
  


"One-twelve," I said a bit irritably.    
  


"Whatever.  The point is--"  That fanged grin crept back onto her face.  "--that was _awesome_.  Man, I never woulda thought it, but next time I'm in a fight, I want you there alongside me, 'kay, Riley?  Damn, man.  Fuckin' Nuriko or somethin'."  Pause.  "Hey, 're you all right?  You're lookin' kinda pale all of a sudden."

Without a word, I turned, brushed by Kats, and hurried up the steps.  A few minutes later, I was in the relative safety of my room, curled up on the naked blue of my mattress, trying vainly to stop myself from shivering.

_Fuckin' Nuriko or somethin'..._

I buried my face in my pillow, clamped my hands over my ears, and squeezed my eyes shut.  It was only a few minutes later when, finally deciding to trek back downstairs and try to explain things to Kats, I caught a glimpse of metal on my dresser, flashing like silver in the sunlight.  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*


	5. Trailing Clouds of Glory

---

Warnings:  Angst, random bursts of memory, and an 'F-word' marathon near the end. --;;

**Chapter Five:  **Trailing Clouds of Glory

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Our birth is but a sleep and forgetting: The soul that rises with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar: Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in winter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God who is our home. 

--William Wordsworth

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*--*-*

I sat up, let my arms drop to my sides, and rose calmly to my feet.  

It was late afternoon, the January sunlight coming pale and thin through the glass of the window, but that glitter--that flash of silver--it was bright as a memory; gleaming like a small star against the sun.  The knowledge that it belonged to me, that _I_ belonged to _it_...it was in my mind even before my thoughts had a chance to form, and I knew with a comfortable kind of certainty that I was about to take that first fearful step off the edge of a great cliff, and after that nothing would ever be the same.  Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot--slow, steady steps, eyes locked on the glow of the prize with unwavering single-mindedness--and, then, I was standing above them, staring down at the familiar curves and engravings of the bracelets; _my_ bracelets, and they were smooth and cool and silver, embedded with a green stone that sparkled in my eyes like a flash of memory, and I knew that if I could just lift my hand and touch them that it would all come flooding back, that somehow I would be _me_ again, or as much of me that could remain after being reborn...being re_made_...  My fingers, trembling only slightly, rose from my side, began to slide towards cool metal--

And, then, like a record player screech, something thudded into the door, and I snapped out of it.

"Ri, what the hell're you doin' in there?  Hey, look, I'm sorry, whatever the hell I did, but come outta there, wouldya?  Much as I like Xena, it's gettin' kinda boring down here, ya know?"  
  


I jumped back from the bracelets like I'd been stung--and, of course, tripped over my stereo and went thudding hard onto my back on the floor.  Kats' pounding immediately grew more urgent, and although I couldn't make out what she was saying through the sudden ringing in my skull, I somehow managed to call out, "It's okay, I just tripped!  Hang on a sec!"

I was shivering and sweating and breathing fast, lying on my back with elbows propped beneath me, and even though I felt like myself again, there was something new inside of me, now; something...new and old and unfamiliar and familiar, all at the same bloody time.  Why did I feel so calm??  My body was going into overload, and yet, my thoughts were clear and measured, shifting along at such an even tempo that I began to wonder if maybe I really _had_ gone off the deep end.  This...this wasn't me.  My thoughts weren't like this; weren't ordered or structured or calm.  They were erratic, flinging from one side of my brain to the other like a Pong game gone wrong.  I _knew_ that--and, yet...  

How was it possible to feel unlike myself and like myself all in the same moment??

"Damn it, Ri, if you don't open the door I'm gonna fuckin' kick it down!"

There was a waver in  Kats' voice.  Fear?  Concern?  Anger?  Did it matter?  
  


Still feeling strangely calm, I got my legs underneath me and stood, then walked to the door and unlocked it.  Kats grabbed onto the handle and twisted it hard the second she heard the click, and then the door was open and she was standing there in front of me with wide eyes and I knew that the waver _had_ been fear; that she'd been afraid...  Maybe still was. 

She stared at me for a long moment, frowning and apparently looking for some sign of injury.  Not finding any, she folded her arms over her chest, eyebrows pressing together on her forehead, and regarded me with something like concerned irritation.  "Okay, look, Riley," she said.  "I don't know what the hell's goin' on here, but if this is what happens to you everytime you're outta caffeine, I'm gonna fuckin' make sure you never run out again.  C'mon, you're freakin' me out, here.  What's goin' on?  You sick or somethin'?"

I didn't say anything.  Instead, I lifted a finger, turned, and pointed to the edge of the dresser.

Kats frowned.  "They're nice," she said after a second, sounding a little unsure.  "Good fuckin' replicas.  What, you get 'em off Ebay or somethin'?"

"No," I said quietly.  "They're not replicas."  
  


Big frown.  "Whaddya mean, they're not replicas?"

I felt strange.  Something was twisting around inside of me (sudden memory of Alien.  shudder.  _damn it, keep your mind on topic!_), knotting in my stomach and clenching at my heart; but, there was more to it than that, too.  I felt like I was on the brink of something, like I was standing at the edge of a precipice with my toes hanging a little over the edge, just getting up the courage to lean forward, look down; fall.  And, damn it, I was scared.  Somewhere, buried deep beneath all this muddy calmness, I was terrified.  Because, something was happening to me.  Something weird.  Something big.  Something...wonderful.

"Pick them up," I whispered.  Was I talking to her or myself??

Still frowning at me, Kats stretched out a hand, grabbed onto the bracelets, and lifted them into the air.  She didn't put them on, but then I hadn't thought she would.  Her eyes were glossy and dark, and as the frown melted from her face, I felt a sudden burst of familiarity; an abrupt surge of...memory.  And, then, she was beside me, the bracelets balanced lightly on her palm, and even though every part of me was screaming and writhing that I couldn't do this, I couldn't, I couldn't--I took them from her hand, savored the cool touch of the metal for a moment...and, then, slid them onto my wrists.

---

A million voices were suddenly echoing in my head at once, making me stagger backwards, bring a hand to my head and try to keep myself from falling.  __

_Niisama, wait for me!  Niisama!  - No, no, she can't be dead, she can't be, it's me--it has to be me instead, because I should be dead, I should be dead, not her, not her, not Kourin, no! - Ryuen, stop this!  Take them off!  TAKE THEM OFF! -  have to get away from this place, go somewhere where no one knows me, where no one knew her; where I can be her without them remembering who I used to be - to welcome you to the Imperial Harem; it is an honor bestowed on none but the most beautiful, promising girls - saved for Heika-sama, who will choose one of you as his bride - Kourin would've wanted, I know this is what she would've wanted - heard about Suzaku no Miko; she came from the other world - My name is Kourin, also known as Nuriko - not fair, how can he love that stupid child when I've been loving him for so much longer? it's not fair, it's not FAIR why doesn't he see me? - is she trying so hard to be friends with me when all I do is hurt her in return? - don't want friends, can't afford friends, they'll know, they'll find out, and then she'll really be dead, she'll really be dead, so I can't, I can't, no matter how much I like her and want to stop being cruel to her I can't because she can't know about me - almost drowned because of me; I'm still shaking and I can't believe I was so stupid how can he ever forgive me for almost killing her? - Miaka, I was serious - want you to be my empress - healing springs, deep in the woods - I'm a man, so what? - it's better this way, better that someone knows; I can still be her and have her know who I am, I know I can - give up on Hotohori, ne, Nuriko?  It's ridiculous.  You're a man. - the look in his eyes, gods, he hates me he hates me - _

---

I opened my eyes.

Okaaaaaay--there was the ceiling.  White, plastery, perfectly normal.  But, ahhh...wasn't the angle a little off?  I winced.  Oh, gah, not again.  

_Okay, I'm on my back, and memory--for the moment, at least--has gone.  Must've passed out again.  Great.  But, hey, at least I've got that 'comfort of home' thing going on.  No random coffee shop employees to make me feel like an idiot..._

A trembling voice came suddenly from my right, and I turned my head to see Kats kneeling there beside me, her reddish hair tangled and sticking up in places, her eyes wide and blank and staring.  _Something familiar...something...something happened, didn't it?  Just a minute ago..._

"Fuckin' hell," she whispered.  The white nubs of her canines flashed with each word.  "This is unreal.  Fuckin' unreal."  And, then, before I had a chance to respond, those brownish-amber eyes were on me, locking me into a fiery gaze, and Kats' voice sounded suddenly lower; unnatural for her, perhaps...but, not for him.  Not for...Tasuki.

"You just don't fuckin' know when to stay conscious, do ya, Nuriko?"

---


End file.
